A Thief In The Night

Burglar

Awoken by a bump in the night, a noise I wish could have resisted.

I didn’t want to investigate, but the wife – she’d insisted.

So, armed with what first came to my hand, I crept quietly down the stair,

Clutching a pair of her curling tongs, to discover who might be there.

There was a light on in the kitchen: so - there was the criminal joker!

I shouted out - just to warn him: “Hey! I’m armed with a big poker!”

I heard a noise and dashed bravely in, to chase off the thief,

But the sight that met my eyes was one I could hardly believe.

The youth, he was just sitting there in the chair, as calm as can be,

Helping himself to some cornflakes, with cold milk, as far as I could see.

He didn’t look so threatening, slumped at the table, almost dejected,

He didn’t have the traditional look of the cat-burglar I’d expected.

He wasn’t armed and dangerous, and there was no sign of a mask,

He didn’t wear a long stripey jumper, nor have a bag marked “swag” to help in his task.

He wasn’t alarmed to see me; in fact, he didn’t even frown,

Just said: “Calm yourself, Grandad! -and put those curling-tongs down!”

I said: “A man’s home is his castle – about that, you need to be clear,

You shouldn’t be eating my cornflakes; in fact, you shouldn’t even be here!”

He said that as I was here now, he could guess how I must feel.

He didn’t have the heart to burgle, and from me he’d better not steal.

House-breaking’s not all it’s cracked up to be; the risks hardly make it worth-while,

Biting dogs and alarm systems were really cramping his style.

The hours were anti-social, always having to come in the night,

And he wasn’t getting much sleep, never seeing much of the daylight.

By the time I’d heard his story I could see things from his side,

And felt so very sorry for him; - well, I very near cried.

I saw him out through the door, once he’d had a good rest,

I hoped he’d do well in the future, and then I wished him all the best.

I locked the door behind him, reflecting on what we’d both said,

And, knowing that crime doesn’t pay, made my way happily back to bed.

It was next morning that I discovered my wallet and keys he’d lifted,

He’d been back again in the night and all my valuables shifted.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2017